I Can See The Argument

In the dentist's waiting room - we chat to a neighbour who lives a few doors down the road. At least I do. I introduce my husband to her. We've known them for 11years. She includes him in the conversation. He says things like,

I can see the argument  and that's a classic way forward. But he only follows a very little of what she says.

On the way home, walking on the hot pavement, the sun burning the back of my neck I ask him,

What's it like when someone knows you but you don't recognise them?

Painful, he says.

My brother-in-law comes to take him out for lunch and a walk on Dartmoor. He and my sister have recently returned from a trip to France. He talks about the Moules he ate there, and tries to explain what they are.... and all the other shellfish.....mussels, brown shrimps, oysters, crabs, molluscs. My husband shrugs, says he doesn't have any pictures ......doesn't know any of those words.

Later he comes home all sunburnt and happy - he doesn't remember the name of the place where they walked - Haytor - but says he had a wonderful time.

He sleeps for the next three hours while I lose myself at Wimbledon....I make a pot of strong Earl Grey tea which makes me even more jittery watching Andy Murray losing his quarter final to Gregor Dimitrov.....and Novak Djokovic winning his.

And then when it's over it's too late to make the redcurrant and strawberry jam that I started preparing this morning with the sun beating down on the garden...and I put all the fruit back in the fridge. It'll keep for another day. Whereas Wimbledon only has this moment....

My husband understands this when I tell him I haven't made the jam.

I can see the argument, he says.